Every man, woman and child in the town was related in some way to nearly every one of the soldiers.
The women turned out to wave their fathers, husbands, brothers and lovers on to victory.

The old men gathered to give parting counsel and encouragement to their sons and kindred.

The Sixty-fourth rode away to what hope told them would be a glorious victory.
At noon we are still straggling along without much attempt at soldierly order, over the rough, frozen hill-sides.

It is yet bitterly cold, and men and horses draw themselves together, as if to expose as little surface as possible to the unkind elements.

Not a word had been spoken by any one for hours.
The head of the column has just reached the top of the hill, and the rest of us are strung along for a quarter of a mile or so back.
Suddenly a few shots ring out upon the frosty air from the carbines of the advance.